Saturday, October 31, 2009

“I go crazy wondering what there is to really seeDid the night just take up your time, cause it means more to meSometimes I forget what I'm doing, I don't forget what I want,what I wantRegret what I've done, regret you? I couldn't go on” Kiss On My List – Hall & Oates

This year I met someone cool. I could be myself completely with him and he entertained ME just as much as I captivated him. He was so awesome that when I was with him, it made me forget. Yep, forget. I forgot about the mean people, the collateral damage done to me, the romantic injuries culminated over the last few years.

All was peachy until he kissed me. It was almost like he had a vendetta against this sensual act. It was soul-less and harsh; something akin to a disdainful, drive-by, flesh stab. I’ve had more passion from the gay dudes I’ve made out with. This guy wasn’t gay, at least his hands were proclaiming the opposite as they invaded me with vigor, but he wasn’t a kisser.

I asked what the deal was and he just looked puzzled. He had never thought about it, but upon reflection, he didn’t like to kiss anyone at all. It just wasn’t his thing.

I became uncomfortably numb. Here was a discovery I never expected to make. I can’t fathom anything sexual without kissing. It’s the gateway, the decision maker if you will, for most women as to whether NAKED happens later or not.

Not. Probably a good thing too as this would’ve had to be a long distance thing, and had he been 100% awesome, I’d be pining away until the next time we saw each other. I’m a kisser. Nothing provides more delight to me than a sweet, smooth, lip massage. =(

I met someone else that was ok - very cute, but too young. I wish I could be crazy about the ones that are crazy about me, dang. Against my better judgment, we hung out for a while, but he made me remember.

Yep, all the shit came flooding back to make rounds in my brain. The longings for what I can’t have (and shouldn’t want anyways), that trapped feeling of someone who likes you too much too fast, and the familiar need to bolt before I hurt them. I love the affection, and it’s been since like February that I’ve had it so genuine but it’s not right, or right enough it seems.